Moonsong's Sorrow
by Moonsong's Shadow
Summary: Basically a back story for one of my characters that I wrote to keep the facts straight in my own head...and a friend decided to pressure me into submitting. Thus, enjoy the tragic beginnings of my Rogue Sasari.


((A/N: I own nothing of this world or its content, merely my character and her history. Azeroth and the land's lore belong to Blizzard.))

The night was still and clear, hardly a breeze stirring the lush vegetation of Ashenvale, though the shadows still seemed to dance and twirl in the silver glow of the moonlight. Crouching in the shadows, Sasari could hear the guttural tongue of the orcs as they tramped about their guard post, heavy blades swinging in their meaty paws, the cold steel glinting in the torchlight. She swallowed harshly, chewing her lip with anxiety as she looked slowly around for some sign of her mother. Sasari knew she had to be close by; Andariel would never let her daughter out of sight, nor would the great white cat always at her side. Sasari didn't dare utter even a whispered plea for her mother, knowing the foul orcs likely had scouts of their own surrounding the area, she would just have to trust in her mother's senses, trust in her mother's capable blades should things go awry.

Sasari spun around at the slight whisper of vegetation parting behind her, her clumsy hands fumbling for the small daggers at her belt. She gritted her teeth in anticipation, attempting to steel her fragile nerves for a confrontation. The tension slid from her cramped muscles as Cai's white muzzle appeared before her face, his icy blue eyes slightly luminous with the moonlight. Sasari sighed in relief, reaching a hand forward to fondly stroke the great cat's velvety nose. He growled, a low rumbling in his deep chest, a warning sound urging her to remain quiet. She chewed her lip, her anxiety returning in full force at his poignant reminder of her current situation. She settled herself facing forward once more, her glowing gaze attentively searching the Horde camp before her. Something was wrong. Where had the two patrolling guards gone?

She leaned forward, daring to part the bushes in front of her for a better view, her skin tingling with a sense of foreboding and the beginning fires of panic. As she urgently scanned the outpost for signs of the missing guards, her long, delicately pointed ears twitched slightly in strain to hear any approaching footfalls. Cai's low snarl alerted her to the presence of one of her missing guards, strolling slowly, warily through the bush only a dozen or so feet from her hiding place. She crouched low to the ground, her long dark blue hair snagging on the bushes painfully. Inwardly she groaned, _I'm not cut out for this sort of thing…but I can't just leave Mother to face this task alone…she needs me, just as she needs Cai_. Sasari was indeed cut out for stealthy studies such as this, her delicately muscled frame smaller than most others of her kind at just under six feet tall; but she had not the training of an assassin, no skill with the daggers she carried beyond what was required to keep from injuring herself. She ignored the stinging in her scalp, keeping herself still so as not to alert the orc to her presence.

Cai crouched low, a guttural growl emanating from deep within his chest as he inched towards the orc. Sasari winced, biting her lip as she watched him go, _He's right…we'll see blood before the night is through_. As she watched, a dark-shafted, white-fletched arrow buried itself in the unsuspecting orc's throat, a present from Andariel who stood silhouetted in the moonlight on a sturdy branch across the path. The gurgling death cry of the orc was enough to break the silence of the night, alerting the second of the missing guards to his companion's peril. He curled is thick green lips, bearing his sharply pointed tusks with a feral snarl as he charged towards Andariel's perch with his wickedly curved axe swinging in his calloused grasp.

Sasari leapt from her hiding place without a thought, ignoring the searing tug at her scalp as she forcefully tore her tangled hair from the branches of her shelter, ignoring the warning growl from Cai, ignoring all common sense. She pulled her daggers from her belt with an inarticulate cry and charged at the orc's back. Cai bounded in front of her with a snarl, his large and wickedly curved claws extended to rend the flesh of the green brute turning dumbly to face Sasari as Cai tumbled into the orc, a flurry of claws, teeth, steel, and blood.

Andariel called out sharply to her daughter in their native tongue, bidding her to retreat back into the shadows and away from harm as she set an arrow to her bow, pulling back swiftly to take aim at the storm of violence below her. Sasari turned to heed her mother's command, her temporary rush of adrenaline washed swiftly away by a torrent of panic when she realized the dire nature of their situation. She ran a few paces back to the forest, confident in her mother's ability to dispatch one lowly orc, but as she turned to look back over her shoulder she saw more rushing forward, alerted by the screams of their dying comrade. She stood still as if rooted to the ground, biting her lip in hesitation, torn between the apparent safety of the forest and the obvious peril her mother now faced.

Her decision was made for her as strong arms wrapped about her slender waist, trapping her arms against her slim hips. She cried out to her mother while kicking viciously at her captor, squirming violently in an attempt to break free. A dizzying blow thudded against her skull and she slumped into her captor's arms, her long tangled hair cascading over her face and hiding her mother from view. Her head swam with the guard's forceful blow, a warm rivulet of blood streaming down her cheek from her temple to further mat her disheveled hair. She struggled to lift her head, her vision blurry and sporadic at best, the forest scene dancing before her eyes.

She bit her lip bloody to hold back the tears welling in her shining eyes as she watched her mother leaping through the underbrush, her twin swords glinting red in the moonlight with the blood of her opponents. She continued her struggle against her opponent as she felt some semblance of strength seeping into her weary limbs, clawing and kicking in desperation to break free and run to her mother's side. The battle was going poorly for Andariel, the savage orcs greater both in numbers and in strength than the slight elven woman, however fiercely she fought.

An anguished roar rang out into the night, followed closely by a triumphant shout from an orcish tongue. Cai. The great white cat was hidden from Sasari's sight, but she knew that sound, knew what it meant. Her mother fought alone. Sasari grunted in pain as her captor, having grown tired of her pitiful struggles, tightened his powerful arms around her waist, squeezing the air from her delicate body. She heard and felt the sickening pop as one, and then another of her ribs cracked under the brutal pressure. She wheezed, struggling to draw breath as she hung limp in the orc's deadly grasp. Her captor began to drag her towards the camp, slinging her over one meaty shoulder like a sack of grain. She cried out in pain as the position jarred her ribs, calling to her mother in a breathy rush of Darnassian with little hope of being heard.

Andariel did hear her daughter's call, however, her gaze snapping towards the forest to witness her daughter being carried into the darkness by one of the meaty green brutes. She snarled with rage and the primal need to protect her child, the piteous sight of Sasari reaching towards her hopelessly blinding her with a mother's fury. She disengaged the orc she had been fighting, dropping her blades and pulling her bow from her shoulder to take aim at the orc carrying her daughter away from her.

Seeing what her mother meant to do, Sasari ignored the searing pain in her chest and pulled herself up onto her captor's shoulder to give her mother a clear shot at his broad back, furiously kicking her legs to distract the brute from his impending doom. Andariel, however, never got a chance to loose her shot.

As she drew back her bowstring to take aim at the retreating orc she sensed the others at her back, knew they would charge for her with their blades eagerly extended to tear into her flesh. She cared little, Sasari was all that mattered. She drew the fletching of her arrow back nearly to her cheek, taking careful aim lest she hit her daughter instead, standing firm against the heavy footfalls tramping ever nearer her undefended back.

Sasari watched in horror as the orcs ran to her mother who seemed not to notice, opening her mouth to cry out a warning though she knew it was already too late. The arrow fell from her mother's bow, quivering point-down in the lush green turf of Ashenvale as the savage blade of the Horde guard sprouted from Andariel's chest. Sasari squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head violently in disbelief at the sight of her mother face down on the forest floor, the red of her life's blood pooling sluggishly around her prone form, glowing in the silver light of the moon.

_NO! No it can't happen like this! _Sasari struggled viciously against her captor, screaming and sobbing in an attempt to break free, to run to her mother and assure herself that it was just like all the other wounds she'd faced, that she'd be up and about the very next day with her usual smug grin. _She'll be alright, she has to be! Elune grant it to be so!_ She fell against her captor's with a wracking sob, pounding her fists futilely against his heavily muscled back. This can't be happening... how could this go so wrong?  
Hollow words echoed in her head, the parting instructions given to her mother by the Sentinels, "Tread carefully, Andariel, they are ever vigilant, but so long as you keep your wits about you we foresee no difficulties..." _No difficulties... she's DEAD!_

Sasari bit her lip against her sobs as the triumphant Horde procession made its way into the hazy circle of firelight. She hid her face in her hands as her captor slid her off his broad shoulder and threw her to the ground at his feet before the other guards. She wouldn't give them the pleasure of seeing her tears. She let out a sharp cry as a solidly shod foot slammed into her already injured ribs, crawling to her hands and knees with a wheezing cough. She looked up then, into the sickly green face of the behemoth that had carried her from the forest, who had been the indirect cause of her mother's death. The orc leered down at her with small, squinting eyes, his rubbery lips pulled back in a sickening visage of victory and smug satisfaction.

She bared her own small white teeth in a feral snarl, spitting at the orc before her with no thought to her own situation. Her mind was elsewhere, with her mother's fallen body. She pulled her small daggers from her belt and clumsily threw herself at the orc, determined to do at least a small amount of damage before her seemingly inevitable death. The orc merely laughed at her desperate charge, grabbing her wrists and spreading them wide, pulling her against his chest as he looked down into her upturned face. He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin, squeezing his paws around her wrists until she winced with pain and let her daggers fall to the ground.

He looked up from her to his comrades, speaking something in his barbaric tongue that made them all howl with fiendish laughter. Sasari trembled in his grasp, drawing a satisfied smirk from his ugly face. She knew not what he said, but the tone was enough to let her see that her death wouldn't come this night... nor would it come as quickly as she desired.

The brute signaled one of his companions with a fumbling gesture, still holding her wrists in his punishing grasp. The wiry troll grinned with malicious pleasure and disappeared into a nearby shack, emerging soon after with a ring of solid iron in his bony hands. He pried the ends of the ring apart, bending the sturdy metal with an ease that reminded the trembling elf of the nature of her captors. The orc that held her, a captain of some sort by the respect the others showed him, let loose her wrists and spun her about, shoving her to the ground with one swift and forceful movement.

She grunted in pain, her vision swimming as the impact knocked the breath from her lungs. The captain knelt next to her head, gripping her hair in one calloused hand and jerking the waist-length mass harshly to bare the back of her neck. She felt the weight of another orc settle across her calves, pinning her to the ground as the skinny troll with the band of iron approached. She tried to push herself up, but another orc simply stepped in to pin her wrists behind her back. The grinning troll, a shaman of some sort by his painted face and air of wild magic, knelt to the other side of her head as the captain lifted her face from the ground with another tug at her hair.

Sasari squeezed her eyes shut as the shaman slid the collar around her neck, motioning for a hot iron brand from the nearest campfire. Another orc handed it to him with a vicious leer and stood back to watch with satisfaction as the shaman pressed the brand to the un-joined ends of the iron ring. Sasari howled as the metal heated against the delicate flesh at the nape of her neck, the scent of her own burning skin choking her. The guards laughed with delight, amused to see this haughty young elf girl at their mercy. She wept face down into the dusty ground at the edge of the Barrens until some time after the shaman removed the brand from her new collar, until the searing bite of the burn faded into a relentless throb and the equally painful realization set in that she now belonged to them, to do with as they pleased.

The guards walked away from her, leaving her to lie pitifully on the ground with the knowledge that she wouldn't have the heart to attempt an escape. Their utter lack of concern stung Sasari as surely as the hot metal around her neck; they knew she was worthless and weak. She pulled herself gingerly into a sitting position, hugging her legs to her chest and resting her forehead on her knees. She trembled with pain and fear, not of death, but of life among her brutal captors. She breathed shallowly to spare her injured ribs, the tears finally drying on her cheeks. She mentally took stock of her wounds, her ribs would be painful and annoying, but not life-threatening, the cut at her temple was shallow and had already ceased bleeding, her neck ached with the searing throb of the burn, the collar tight against her flesh. She knew she wouldn't die unless they meant her to, a sort of twisted mercy as she knew death would serve her better.

Her gaze fell to the dully shining blades of her daggers lying in the dust where she dropped them. She glanced surreptitiously around the campsite, noting the positions of the guards and those gathered jovially around the campfires. She crawled slowly towards her weapons, praying not to be seen, knowing them to be her only salvation within this prison. _Let them do as they please with my lifeless body... I'll not give them the satisfaction of keeping me as a plaything_. She dared a triumphant smile as the leather wrapped handle of the closest dagger came slowly within reach, her fingers outstretched to grasp the hilt. She smiled grimly at the blade held in her hand, lifting it to press the point against her chest. A stunningly powerful blow struck the side of her head setting her ears ringing and senses reeling. She slumped forward, the dagger again lying in the dirt near her hand. Through the disorientation she could hear the voice of the captain snarling at her and then at his followers.

The captain's booted foot thudded into her abdomen, drawing a breathy cry of protest and pain from Sasari. He bent to again grab her hair and jerk her head around to face him, pulling her to her feet. He spoke lowly, angrily in his barbaric tongue with repeated gestures towards her daggers and herself. A gangly troll came to scoop up her weapons and carry them away to her utter dismay. The captain, noting her attention elsewhere, yanked her hair again, adding a back-handed slap of his gauntleted fist. She dizzily looked into his eyes, flinching at the sight of his obvious rage. He grabbed her chin with his calloused fingers, pulling her face close to his until they sat nose to nose and he glared at her with a feral snarl, squeezing her chin painfully. With the other hand he poked a bruising finger into her collarbone, and then pointed his thumb back to his chest. The message was clear though his words were alien; "You're mine."

She closed her eyes and hung her head, all strength and resolve seeping from her wounded body. He let her slide to the ground on her knees, her gaze falling blankly on the dirt in front of her. She sat numbly, calmly, until he returned from the campfire some time later to retrieve her. She dumbly acknowledged his presence, her mind reeling from so sudden and devastating a change, as he roughly grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the fire. To her dismay she was greeted with the sight of more iron bands, smaller this time, but every bit as strong. He pushed her to her knees in front of the fire and motioned for her to hold out her hands. When she didn't respond he cuffed one long, delicately pointed ear with a rumbling growl and knelt behind her, grabbing her elbows and offering her hands to the shaman.

The leather-faced troll leered at her as he grabbed her hand and laid one iron band around her wrists, then using both hands to squeeze the shackle closed. Sasari winced as he reached for the hot brand, glowing golden at the tip, and brought it to rest against the seam at the underside of her wrist. She choked back a sob as the metal heated against her flesh, searing her delicate skin. She bowed her head, letting her long hair cascade forward to hide her face as her shoulders shook with her quiet tears. The captain let go of one elbow, reaching around to grasp her chin and pull her face towards him to witness her pain. She looked to him, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared pleadingly into his eyes; _Why? _He held her gaze as the shaman finished with the first shackle, moving onto the next with the same procedure. Sasari bit her lip as he laid the hot iron to her wrist, but no more tears would come.

The blue-skinned shaman attached a sturdy chain to a small loop in the shackle on her left wrist, and then linked it to the right. She hadn't felt the band around her neck, but she knew there would be a similar loop there, as well. Her wrists ached with the heavy burden of the shackles and chain, the searing throb of the burns at the undersides of her wrists aggravated by the weight. The captain released her chin, pointing a thick finger towards her feet, tugging at the heel of her boot to clarify his meaning. She shook her head after noting two more iron bands laying readily near the campfire, squeezing her eyes shut and speaking for the first time that night; "No… please, no more…" she bowed her head, her dark hair sliding off her shoulders to hang around her face, "You've already made it hopeless."

The captain growled, baring his pointed tusks in a wolfish snarl and pushed her onto her side with a forceful shove of her shoulder. She winced, propping herself up on her elbow and holding her ribs with her other arm as the captain went about tugging off her tightly laced leather boots. She didn't stop him; she merely laid there and let him remove her boots, staring blankly. She rested her head on the dusty ground as they bound the iron bands around her ankles, staring into the leaping flames of the fire. She bit her lip with a quiet whimper at each new burning sensation, never taking her eyes from the fire as she watched it dance within the circle of stones; dance as her mother had danced to her death with the orcs.

She was pulled from her dream-like state as the captain wrapped his hand around her upper arm and yanked her to her feet. He brought her close against his chest once more, grinning down at her with obvious delight. He poked one large thumb into his chest with a proud smile. "Kern," he said, "Kern." She looked up at him with emotionless eyes and he poked a finger into her chest expectantly. She stared dumbly with a slight shake of her head before whispering, "No one, not anymore."

He frowned in confusion, poking her again with the same curious look. With a disgusted sigh she muttered, "Sasari." He slipped a hand around her throat and lifting her onto her toes. The pressure made her new collar rub painfully against the burn at the nape of her neck, drawing a wince and small gasp from her as she struggled to draw breath. "Sehsury," he growled with a malicious sneer. She grabbed at his hand around her throat, nodding as much as she was able. He let her back down to the ground, releasing her neck with a smug smirk. She coughed, her hands going to her throat as she looked up at him. He grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and began pulling her towards a nearby hut.

She stumbled after him, her long stride shortened by the chains linking her ankles. She tripped once, nearly falling on her face as she over-stepped the reach of her chains. He caught her, grabbing and entirely surrounding her narrow waist with both hands as he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her the rest of the way. When they reached the hut he kicked open the ill-fitting door and threw her unceremoniously to the ground. She coughed violently, resting on her hands and knees with her back to Kern until the fit had passed. She laid down on her side, curling into a ball while hugging her ribs, her eyes watering from the pain induced by her coughing.

He brutally kicked the small of her back, drawing forth a cry of pain and surprise from Sasari, who simply curled tighter, covering her head with her arms. He snarled something in his foreign tongue and turned to leave, slamming the door shut with a furious growl. Sasari crawled to the wall opposite the door, curling her back in the curve of the round hut. She collapsed in a fit of weeping and coughing, pillowing her head on one arm and covering it with the other. All she could see was the last vision she'd had of her mother, face-down on the forest floor. All she knew was pain, sorrow, and utter loneliness until the black abyss of exhaustion finally overwhelmed her injured body and tortured mind, echoing even then with the cheerful laughter of her captors.


End file.
